


Caught Off Guard

by LadyAmalthea



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hiking, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Park Ranger Hank Anderson, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-17 08:00:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16091399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAmalthea/pseuds/LadyAmalthea
Summary: Connor knew he had ventured too far up the mountain on his own.... and this day didn't turn out the way Hank thought it would.Hank goes out into a snowstorm after a call comes in about a missing hiker. He's sure the guy will turn up, just delayed by the storm, but brings along his trusted St. Bernard... just to be sure.Mountain Ranger / Hiker AU





	1. Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the amazing fanart by @2amsnow
> 
> Link to the art here: https://twitter.com/2amSnow/status/1043016216363720704

Connor knew he had ventured too far up the mountain on his own. 

 

He got up in the morning ready to go, but his friends already exhausted from the previous day’s hike. Markus made him promise to bring his phone and a radio, and a few extra supplies just in case. They normally split up the loads, but with Connor going out on his own, he had to prioritize. The views from the mountain were so spectacular, he wanted to get the most out of their vacation to Colorado before returning to the dense urban jungle of Detroit. 

 

He waved them goodbye just after noon while they were still recovering from their hangovers, and made his way from their shared cabin and up the mountain path. The snow was falling gently, the blanket of white covering the ground steadily rising the further he went. A few hours in, he took a break for water and a protein bar, and the snow had started to fall a little heavier. Just a little further, and he’d turn around…

 

That was… until his own clumsiness betrayed him.

 

\------

 

Hank groaned as he heard the blaring beeps of his alarm clock. He smacked the plastic with his hand, just missing the snooze button. The irritating sound continued, “Fucking heeeelllll…” he complained outloud as he continued to slap blindly to quiet the annoying sound.

 

Once the cabin was finally quiet again, Hank opened his eyes and looked to his side. “Sumo…” the massive dog snoozed loudly beside him on the bed. Hank sighed, rubbing his face, deciding to leave the sleeping dog be. He dragged himself out of bed to make some breakfast, thankful that his ranger’s cabin still had the comforts of his old home. A gas stove, electricity, even internet, though terribly slow. He chose to live isolated like this, just him and his dog. But some days still felt lonely, and he was thankful that the internet helped him keep up with what was happening in the rest of the world. Even if, most days, the news was pretty fucking depressing…

 

After making breakfast for him and Sumo, they started on their morning patrol. There were a few groups of hikers in the area for the long, holiday weekend. Sometimes he would make the journey down to the small community of vacation cabins, mostly occupied by outdoorsy rich people and enthusiastic hikers. They would have weekly parties during the busy season, but it was starting to get harder for Hank to travel back in the cold, winter nights after getting hammered. Instead, he’d just drink himself to sleep in his cabin. He didn’t mind too much.   
  


As he walked through the sparse forest with Sumo leading the way, he listened in on the local radio broadcast. They called for heavy snow that evening, not unusual this time of year, but still cause for keeping vigilant for the night.

 

By the time late afternoon rolled around, Hank returned to the cabin to bring some firewood inside and double check that everything would be fine through the storm. The snow began to pick up, large clumps falling in his face and hair every so often. He checked in with the other rangers via their radio frequency, all reporting no activity on the mountain. 

 

After Hank had settled in for the night with dinner, however, his radio buzzed with static as a transmission tried to come through.

 

“ _ This is Pine Mountain Visitor Center, anyone up on the mountain copy?” _

 

Hank took the radio as he took another bite of the microwaved meatloaf, “This is Ranger Anderson on North Side, I copy.”

 

_ “We have someone here saying their friend took a hike and hasn’t returned. He actually may be in your quadrant.” _

 

Hank rolled his eyes,  _ of course some idiot would be out in this storm, _ he though. Just his luck. “What details can you give me?”

 

_ “Lone hiker, male, six-foot in height. Left at 1300 hours from the camp, took the North Ridge trail. Hasn’t checked in for a few hours, was due to return an hour ago.” _

 

It was already pretty dark out… and frigidly cold at that. But with the snow, the guy was probably just taking a while getting back.

 

“Roger that. I’ll go and scout around. Contact Ranger Collins on East side, have him keep an eye out too.”

 

With a grunt, Hank stood up and began to get back into the layers of thermal wear and heavily insulated snowsuit. Sumo noticed him getting ready to go out, and sat by the door impatiently with a loud  _ boof. _

 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going back out, you goof.” Rolling his eyes, Hank checked his pack for his emergency gear, and started up the mountain path. It was likely this guy would be back to the camp any minute, but he was a ranger for a reason. They had to be sure.

 

\---

 

Connor awoke, dazed, the aching throbbing in his head making him take a minute to open his eyes and gain his bearings.

 

Right… he was climbing down a steep section of the path and found a slick patch of ice the hard way. The heavily falling snow rushed him to head back sooner than he would’ve liked to; he should’ve checked the forecast before going out on his own. So stupid…

 

As he tried to sit up, he felt a sharp pain through his ankle. He cringed, trying to move it slightly but a stinging pain made him react with a sharp breath. Leaning back a little to look up again, he saw the rocky edges of the cliff he fell from. There was no way he could climb up that, let alone walk too far like this. 

 

He reached behind to pull his pack to his side to grab the radio. It was… gone. One of the pockets had opened, and he looked around to see that the contents were likely buried under the thin layer of snow that had already started to build up around him. “Shit… shit!” He looked for his phone in the other pocket, only to find that it wouldn’t turn on from the extreme cold. 

 

He tried not to panic. Panicking wouldn’t help anything about the situation. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of the icy, winter wind, and opened the other pocket to see what did survive the fall. Rope, a protein bar, a knife, a flare… a flare!!

 

He uncapped the flare immediately, sticking it in the snow beside him so he could get a look at his leg. He dusted the snow away, feeling gently around his foot and ankle through the snowpants and boot. He looked around for any other spilled contents of his bag, leaning over to feel through the snow as far as he could without jostling his leg too much. He felt something hard and hollow, silently thanking whatever gods or spirits were out there. He had packed a collapsible hiking pole, and managed to find two of the pieces beside him in the snow. Working carefully, biting his lower lip through the pain, he made a makeshift splint out of the pieces of the pole and some of the rope. 

 

All right… that was done. But, he still couldn’t quite stand up like this. He continued to feel around the snow for the radio, but wasn’t nearly as lucky as he had hoped. 

 

“HEEEEEELLLPPPPPPPPPP!!” He cried out. He was desperate at this point… who knew if anyone else was even out there, but he had to try. He clutched himself as he started to shiver, the cold slowly seeping through the layers of clothing. “HEEELLPPP, PLEASE!!”  
  
He curled in on myself, trying to preserve as much heat as possible. His teeth chattered, and he pulled his balaclava over his mouth and nose. He shut his eyes, peeking them open to check the flare every few minutes, but found himself getting more and more exhausted by the second.

 

\----

 

_ “Boof Boof!” _ Sumo huffed as they climbed through the dark paths of the mountain. Hank had a floodlight in hand, sweeping it from side to side to look everywhere. He gave a sideways frown; they had been out in this crazy blizzard for nearly half and hour, the damn hiker was probably already back at the camp by now. 

 

Suddenly, Sumo ran up ahead beyond his view. “Sumo! Come back here!” He called out, but the St. Bernard only barked more, waited for Hank to catch up before bolting down the path again. It wasn’t his usual, playful barks… it sounded more urgent.

 

Hank followed him, going off the path to a clearing. Sumo ran up to something in the snow, and Hank nearly dropped the light when he saw it.

 

This must’ve been the hiker. He was lean, the height matching the description, and there was some kind of makeshift brace around one of his legs. “Hey! You all right?!” He called loudly, approaching the man and kneeling beside him.

 

Tired, brown eyes looked up at him hazily, but no reply came as the eyes slid back closed. Hank reached a hand under the man’s hood to feel his face; he was freezing cold but wasn’t shivering. He slapped the cold cheek a little, “Hey, buddy, I’m gonna need you to stay awake for me, okay?” The man grunted softly, his eyes squeezing tight before opening them again with the same empty look. Hank removed his bag and clipped the strap around Sumo to carry back. He unpacked an insulating foil blanket and wrapped it around the ailing hiker. “Think you can wrap your arms around me? We gotta get you out of here.”

 

The man nodded slightly as Hank managed to pull him up onto his back. Sumo looked on expentently, bumping his head against the hiker’s good leg before Hank began to carry him back to the cabin. It was too late at night to bring him all the way down the mountain, he just hoped he was well stocked enough to treat the man’s hypothermia. 

 

“Hey, you still with me, kid?” Hank asked his passenger, walking as smoothly as he could. 

 

“Mmmmm… ye-yes…” the soft voice finally replied. 

 

Hank relaxed a little, “Good, good. What’s your name?”

 

“C-c-c-conn-n-n-or…” he stuttered out, nuzzling himself into Hank’s shoulder.

 

The ranger nodded, “OK, Connor. My name’s Anderson, Hank Anderson. You’re gonna be just fine, allright?” Connor nodded slightly; Hank could hear the hiker’s shallow breaths through his hood. “We’re almost there… hanging in there?”

 

Hank didn’t receive a reply back after asking a few more times, picking up his pace to return to the cabin. After getting inside, he carefully laid Connor down on a rug near the fireplace. First and foremost; Hank had to get him out of his clothes. The “waterproof” winter wear was damp with snow, which was probably making him even colder. After shedding his own gear, Hank kneeled down and started by carefully removing the splint. He’d re-set it later. 

 

He started by unzipping the jacket, removing the knit hat and balaclava under the hood. Connor’s face was finally uncovered, and Hank’s heart jumped a little at the sight before him.

 

He figured Connor was younger than him, but the patchy, red face surrounded by wild, brown hair was… cute. Very, very cute.

 

Hank shook his thoughts away, trying to focus on the task at hand. He continued removing the bulky jacket and pants, careful with the injured ankle as he took off the heavy boots. Beneath it all, Connor was in a tunic-like sweater and long-johns, which was as far as Hank was willing to go. He lifted the young man onto his bed, and started looking for some extra pillows to elevate the injury.

 

The thought struck Hank, as he frantically searched the cabin, that the  _ easiest _ way to warm up his guest was through body heat.

 

_ Nope…. NOPE…  _  he thought loudly.

 

He located the extra pillows, a little dusty from being stored away in the closet, but they’d work fine enough. He dropped them beside the bed, scratching his beard as he glanced at the bed again. 

 

He had a job to do. Now was  _ not the time. _

 

He turned around to retrieve the plastic bin of medical supplies from the closet, hearing Sumo’s paws pad across the wood floor. When he emerged from the closet, he saw the  _ damn dog _ jump onto the bed and cuddle up next to the inexplicably handsome stranger.

 

“Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” He shook his head at Sumo, who looked at him happily with his tongue hanging out. Hank rolled his eyes as he dug through the supplies to make a proper splint, when he realized he hadn’t reached out to the other rangers yet.

 

He leaned back up from where he was bending over, his stiff back cracking, and walked over to the desk with his radio and computer.

 

“This is Ranger Anderson on North Side; Visitor Center, do you copy?”

 

He waited a few moments, looking back to the bed where Sumo had comfortably settled, drool dripping from his maw. Hank chuckled a little, and then the static of the radio pulled him back into focus.

 

_ “This is the Pine Mountain Visitor Center. Find anything, Anderson?” _

 

“Yeah, I think I found our missing hiker. His name is Connor, let his friends know he’s safe. I’ll need someone to come up with a snowmobile for a medical transport when the storm passes.”

 

_ “Roger that, Anderson. We’ll let Connor’s party know he’s been located. Over and out.” _

 

Nodding slightly, Hank stood back up, and dragged the chair to the side of the bed while he worked on the ankle. There was a large, nasty blue bruise forming around the joint. Hank winced at the sight. But it definitely wasn’t broken, probably sprained or twisted. He placed the plastic stirrups on either side of the lower leg, gently wrapping gauze around it so it was just tight enough to stay tawt. As he got closer to the ankle itself, the figure stirred to his side. Hank frowned, continuing his work but checking Connor’s face a few times for any painful reactions. 

 

He managed to finish setting it, and then draped the large quilt to cover the now-shivering hiker. Shivering was good; shivering meant his body was working to warm back up. He should’ve been more concerned about how quiet Connor was, but he looked so exhausted Hank couldn’t bring himself to try to wake him up. He’d be just fine with Sumo curled up beside him, anyway.

 

Speaking of which, Hank walked to the other side of the bed to beckon Sumo off so he could fix the quilt. The dog whined a little, not wanting to leave his new friend. Hank patted his leg, “C’mon buddy, you can get right back up.” Sumo eventually got off, allowing Hank to properly make the bed. When he was finished, though, the stubborn dog just stayed by his side.

 

Hank sighed, “allright, you weirdo. I need some fucking coffee…” He walked across the room to the kitchenette, turning on the drip coffee maker that was already prepared from earlier. It was nearly 9pm; most people would think it was too late for caffeine, but Hank would be up for a while. His perverted brain wasnt going to shut off anytime soon. 

 

He sat at the small dining table waiting for the coffee, staring rather hopelessly at the man in his bed right now. It would be a while before he forgot about  _ this _ . This pretty 20-something right in his spot on the bed… it was unbearable. 

 

The old coffee maker sputtered the last few drips of coffee. Hank poured it until it was almost filling the mug, and threw a splash of creamer in before reaching for the handle of whiskey. Before he could unscrew the cap, he heard a gasp, the shifting of blankets, and then a slight groan of pain. 

 

Connor had woken up; sitting up just slightly with a palm to his forehead. He looked around a little disoriented, when his gaze fell on Hank. 

 

Hank’s heart pounded against his ribs; the frantic look of confusion was a lot different from the tired, far-off stare he was met with about an hour ago when he found Connor in the snow. He wanted to drown in those chocolate-colored eyes.

 

Hank glanced at his coffee for a moment, then started approaching the lost hiker.

 

“Hello, Connor. Feeling, uh, any better?” 

 

Right… Hank didn’t talk to people face to face a lot. Especially not such a cute, helpless man who happened to be  _ just his type _ .

 

“I’m… ummm… where am I?” Connor’s voice had a tinge of something in it… fear maybe? Hank couldn’t really tell. But, he also couldn’t tell if Connor’s cheeks had become even redder than they were before, because they were quite flushed.

 

“Ranger’s cabin,” He walked around with his mug, pulling a chair up closer to the head of the bed. “Your friends called you in as missing, found you off the path thanks to Sumo here.”

 

The St. Bernard finally jumped back up on the bed beside Connor. The young man gasped in surprise at first, which melted into a warm smile. “Thank you Sumo…” he began rubbing the dog’s ears and chin, and then turned back toward his host. “And, thank you Hank, for saving me. I thought that I…” He looked away for a moment, hs mouth gaping open, before continuing, “I slipped on some ice and fell off a cliff. I didn’t know how I’d get back, to be honest.” 

 

Hank furrowed his brows a little, taking a sip of coffee. “Well, I’m glad your friends called it in…. Umm, wait, you said you fell from the cliff? That rock face was over 15 fucking feet high!!” Connor shrugged a little, unsure how to reply to that fact. “Well, you’re pretty fucing lucky to walk out of that fall with just a bum ankle. But, as a ranger, I’m going to advise you to  _ never _ ,  _ ever _ hike by yourself again. You understand?” Hank grumbled.

 

Connor recoiled slightly at the stern tone, but nodded while his eyes flickered back to meet Hank’s. “Yes, sir.”

 

Hank released a tired breath, “Sorry… it’s just… it’s like hiking 101, ya know? Buddy system and whatever.” He subconsciously licked his chapped lips, his face still pinched in concern. “Anyway… are you, uh, you warming up okay?”

 

Connor nodded slightly, the tension relaxing from his shoulder. “A little bit. I should, I guess, get up and sit closer to the fire?”

 

Hank scoffed with a smile, “Not with that leg you aren’t. No, you’re on bedrest until a medic comes by to check on you.”

 

Looking around him, Connor suddenly had a look of slight horror. “This is… I’m… is this your bed?!” He asked frantically.

 

“Relax…” Hank held up a hand, “It’s fine, really.”

 

Connor breathed a little heavily, trying to calm himself. “It, um…. Nevermind.” He looked away, hiding a nervous smile.

 

Hank was going to  _ die _ if this guy got any cuter. This is now how he planned on spending the night, but he had zero complaints. “What is it?” 

 

“Nope! Nothing, umm… but thank you for letting me use it.” He didn’t return Hank’s gaze.

 

“C’mon, you can say it.” Hank spoke with his soft, low raspy voice that used to get him all kinds of good trouble.

 

“It… smells nice…” Connor admitted shyly, burying his face in the blanket.

 

Hank snorted a little, trying not to giggle like an idiot. “Ya know, if you feel so bad about stealing my bed, we could share for the night. That storm is gonna last well into the morning.”

 

This didn’t seem to be the answer Connor was expecting, because he inhaled sharply, and took a few moments before finally speaking up. “Ummm… it’s more than all right with me, at least. Would probably help warm me up, too?” The corner of his lips lifted as he gave Hank an embarrassed, lopsided smile. 

 

The ranger couldn’t help smirking himself, setting the coffee down as he walked to the other side of the bed, and removed the boots he was still wearing. As he unlaced them, Connor propped himself up a bit against the pillows. Hank lifted the quilt, sliding in carefully to avoid shaking the mattress or accidentally pressing his legs to close to Connor’s.

 

Their shoulders touching, Hank noticed Connor was still breathing in weighted pants, and the edges of his soft features still a little raw from the frigid cold. He leaned in toward Hank, twisting a little to face his saviour but grimacing from moving his leg. 

 

Hank shivered a little at the man’s whimper as Connor tried to carefully pull his leg slightly closer toward the middle of the large bed. “No, stay still… Uhh, lean forward a little, ok?”

 

Connor nodded, complying, as Hank scooted his shoulder just behind Connor’s back, and wrapped him closely against his chest. It was actually a little startling how cold the man still was; Hank was a little relieved that his dirty desire to cuddle up to him would legitimately pay off. Once he was settled, Connor shuddered as he melted back into Hank’s warmth. He sighed shakily like he was stepping into a hot bath, leaning his head back against a broad shoulder. 

 

“Is that… a little better?” Hank asked, speaking dangerously close to Connor’s ear.

 

The young man nodded, still shivering slightly adjusting to the sudden closeness of heat against him. “Yes… um, thank you, Hank.” 

 

He hummed a little at hearing Connor say his name like that. “Once you’re warmed up enough, I’ll make you something to eat. Oh, and uhh.. I should have some painkillers laying around, if you want ‘em.”

 

“That would… mmm… that would be nice.” 

 

They stayed huddled close for several minutes, both resting silently in the comfort of such close contact. Every once in a while, Connor would twitch a little as cold shivers still crawled up his spine, but Hank could feel his body slowly getting warmer. 

 

As much as he wanted to stay like that  _ for-fucking-ever _ , he was still kinda hungry from having his dinner interrupted. He started to retract his arms, “You feel like eating? I've got some pretty good microwave meals.” He offered, starting to get out if the bed. 

 

Connor frowned a little at the sudden distance between them, but his face settled neutrally after thinking for a moment. “That is very kind of you… I, uhhh, would like to stretch my one good leg too. I'll come sit at the table,” he started to pull off the large blanket, steeling himself for any blasts of pain that shot up through his leg.

 

Hank watched on, concerned, “You need a hand?” 

 

Connor looked down at his leg, frowning in internal conflict. “I think I can… I’ll manage, it's okay.” 

 

“Nah, hang on, let me-" Hank rolled his eyes at the man’s stubbornness, walking around the bed and gently lifting the bandaged limb. As if with perfect coordination, he swung the leg off the pillows and down to the floor as Connor shifted his weight to turn as well. With both feet just touching the wood floor, he looked down where Hank was still kneeling in front of him. A feverish heat radiated across his cheeks, and he turned away for a moment as He was approached by a now-excited Sumo.

 

Hank was a little flustered, too distracted to actually stand back up immediately. His dopey dog jumped up so his front paws were resting on Connor’s lap, who smiled fondly at the slobbering face. Shaking himself, the flannel-clad ranger finally stood up, crossing his arms satisfactorily. “He’s usually stuck here with only me, I'm not surprised that he is so fascinated with you,” he commented with a small smirk. “Want some coffee?”

 

“Yes, please!” Connor replied, continuing to spoil the dog that was single-handedly preventing him from actually standing up. 

 

Hank walked over to the kitchenette, hiding a bemused smile, and grabbed one of his spare mugs. “Take anything in it?”

 

“Do you… do you have any milk?”

 

Hank snorted, “sure do.” As he reached into the fridge, he pulled out the plastic tray of his previously-made dinner, and dug into the freezer for another box of microwave dinner for Connor. The guest managed to push Sumo off, and Hank watched on as Connor wobbled himself over to the small table where he had set two mugs of coffee. He put his half eaten dinner in the microwave, setting the time for a couple dozen seconds to re-heat it, and sat down.

 

There was an awkward pause, with only the howling winds and the soft drone of the microwave to fill the ambience. Connor held the mug closely in his hands, savoring the warmth more than the coffee itself, and then spoke up. “Do you live here year-round? It must be hard to get down the mountain in the winter… the attendant at the visitor center said the snow can get up to seven feet deep.”

 

Hank rubbed his neck, “some years, it usually doesn’t get quite that bad. But, yeah… I’ve spent several weeks at a time cooped up here.”

 

Connor blinked in disbelief; he wanted to comment “ _ That sounds very lonely” _ , but Hank didn’t sound very upset by the fact. “How long have you been here?”

 

Hank stared off, thinking. “About three years? Maybe a few more? I used to be an officer over in Denver, but…” his face fell, but his mouth hung open. “Uhh, anyway… I like it out here. The pay is pretty decent, too.”

 

Connor perked up a little, “a police officer?” Hank nodded. “That’s funny, I… I’m a homicide investigator in Detroit, Michigan.” 

 

“No shit!” Just after the exclamation, the microwave beeped loudly. Hank shot up to retrieve his food, burning his fingers a little on the plastic tray. “Ah, fuck!” He shook his hands, and heard a small chuckle come from the table behind him. Smiling, he cooled down his fingers by starting to unwrap the other meal. “Homicide in Detroit, huh? I bet that’s a handful.” He slid the new tray into the microwave, setting the time, before bringing his dinner to the table.

 

Connor took a sip of coffee, avoiding Hank’s gaze for a moment. “Some days it can be… difficult.” He looked up slowly, “this trip has been very relaxing though. I’m glad my friends convinced me to come with them.”

 

“You guys are up for the holiday weekend, yeah?” 

 

“Yes and no… the long weekend helps, but we’re actually here until Friday. They booked the cabin for a full week.” He took a sip of coffee, and then swallowed it quickly when he thoughts of something. “Do you get phone reception here?”

 

Hank nodded, “Yeah?”

 

“I have my cell phone in my jacket, I should probably let them know I’m all right. Hopefully it has thawed as much as I have.” He gave Hank a wink, who just stared at him dumbly. 

 

Hank nodded, “Umm, in your jacket? I have it over by the fireplace… do you know which pocket?” He got up to go look for it.

 

“In one of the chest pockets… left I think?” Connor described, and was relieved when Hank pulled it from the pocket. “Thank you!”

 

“No problem… I also let the visitor center know that I found you. So your friends probably already know you’re allright,” he said.

 

Connor held down the power button, only for the screen to remain dark. “The battery must’ve died, anyway…” He set the phone down, shrugging a little with a small smile. “Well, now I  _ definitely _ can’t think about work.” 

 

The microwaved beeped again, and soon enough both of them were slowly plowing through the heavily processed foods. Hank could tell that Connor wasn’t particularly enjoying it, but was too polite and too hungry to say anything. “I know this stuff isn't the best, sorry about that…” 

 

Connor, suddenly embarrassed, swallowed the bite in his mouth. “No, no please… I feel bad for imposing as it is. Do you… you don’t eat these all the time though, do you?”

 

Hank got up to put his empty tray in the trash can, “Nahh, mostly in the winter or when I’m too tired to go down the mountain. The pub by the community center is pretty good, I go there a lot in Spring when I come out of hibernation.” 

 

Connor tried desperately to suppress the chuckle that rose out of him, but instead it came out as a snorty laugh as he covered his mouth. “Just like a bear, huh?”

 

Hank burst into a small chuckle, “ _ Exactly  _ like a bear…”

 

Through his lingering smile, Connor continued, “well… in any case, I would like to pay you back for this, and for rescuing me. Maybe I can buy you dinner later this week?”

 

“Umm, yeah!” Hank replied a little more enthusiastically than was probably appropriate, “That would be… ummm… I’d like that,” he took a sip of coffee, hoping to God that he wasn’t blushing nearly as much as he thought he was.

 

But then, it also occurred to him that he had popped a boner, too.  _ Fuck _ .

 

Despite the coffee, Connor found himself yawning into his palm. 

 

“I’m that boring, huh?” Hank asked jokingly.

 

Connor desperately tried to shake away the yawn quickly, “No, no I promise it’s not that, I’m ju-”

 

Hank held up a hand, “Relax… I was just messing with you. Let me help you back into bed.” He steadied the smaller man back to his previous spot on the bed, when Connor halted.

 

“Actually, first, may I use your bathroom?” Connor asked, a little self-conscious.

 

“Mmmhm,” he gestured his head to the side. “That first door by the counter, there.”

 

Connor nodded, pulling himself away from Hank. “I think I can handle it on my own, I’ll be right back.”

 

“Sure, holler if you need anything.” He watched concerned as Connor fumbled into the small bathroom. It was an old bathroom, untouched since the place was built twenty years ago, but the previous owner had thankfully kept it in good shape. He took the opportunity to take care of a few things; turn off his computer, turn down the volume of the radio so it wouldn’t wake them up in the morning, give Sumo a few extra treats. 

 

As he sat down in front of the computer monitor, he opened the lone new email from the park manager, Fowler.

 

_ Hey Anderson, _

 

_ Thanks for the quick search and rescue today. Those damn kids were pretty terrified that their friend was out on their own, glad it’s okay. The bad news, is that the snowmobile here at home base went to the shop this morning to have the treads replaced. We won’t get it back for a couple of days, so unless Mr. Arkay needs emergency medical attention, he’s stuck up there for the time being.  _

 

_ His friends and that Kamski kid from the tourist center offered to come up tomorrow to visit. They’ll bring you guys some supplies, and I’m giving you a bonus for the trouble (that information stays between us).  _

 

_ Jeffery Fowler, Pine Mountain _

  
  


Yup. Hank needed a drink…  _ and _ needed to find a way to get rid of his boner.

 

Shutting off the computer, he went to the kitchen to pour himself a few sturdy shots of whiskey. Sumo was snoring contentedly by the fireplace; at least someone under this roof would sleep soundly. He’d have to ask Jeff to send him a new bottle by the end of the week, at this rate. He heard the ancient toilet from the other room flush, and knocked back the third shot as the door opened. He met Connor’s surprised look with a tipsy gleam in his eyes. “Got some news from the park manager… you want some?” He held the bottle out toward the guest.

 

Connor nodded, managing to get himself back to the dining table as he waited for Hank’s news.

 

“So… depending on how your foots heals, you might be here a little while,” he started, pouring Connor two shots of whiskey into a highball glass.

 

“Oh?” 

 

“Snowmobile’s busted, apparently. Won’t be fixed for a few days.” He placed the glass down, and then poured himself another shot.

 

“Ahh… okay.” Connor seemed surprised by the news, but not necessarily disappointed. They clinked their respective glasses together before drinking. Hank downed his quickly, while Connor could barely get in a large sip without gasping at the burn in his throat. 

 

“So… I guess your friends offered to hike up here tomorrow with some stuff. I’m assuming extra food, clothes, hopefully something for that ankle of yours.” Hank explained.

 

Connor smiled, “that’s very kind of them… but… won’t it be an inconvenience for you?” He took another sip, eliciting the same reaction, but was determined to catch up with his generous host.

 

Hank shrugged, “eh… I don’t mind having the company for a few days. They’re reimbursing me with some extra pay, so really it’s a win-win.” 

 

“That’s… umm… I’m glad to hear that.” Hank grabbed the bottle for the counter, silently offering Connor another drink. He was answered with a nod, and poured the kid another double.

 

“So, do you got a girl back in Detroit, Connor?” Hank asked, just trying to make conversation. 

 

Connor was in the middle of a sip, and was taken by such surprise that a little bit of alcohol rose back up and into his nostrils. His eyes twinged at the stinging sensation, and then swallowed again. “No, definitely no…” he insisted. “I’m… uhh… quite single.”

 

“I find that hard to believe,” Hank commented, handing Connor a roll of paper towels for his nose.

 

“Oh?” Connor asked, then blew his nose into a torn section. “Why is that?” He asked, a little coy.

 

Hank scratched at his beard, “uhhh, well, I don’t know… it’s just surprising. That’s all.” 

 

Connor managed to finish his glass, the alcohol still working its way into his veins. But, he did realize that he was smiling rather hopelessly at seeing Hank so flustered. He swayed a little in his seat, feeling a little bolder and started to get up. “I think I’m ready for sleeping now,” his words were a little breathy as he waited for Hank to inevitably escort him. 

 

Hank moved to his side quickly, seeing Connor’s imbalance and tenderly supporting him around to the other side of the bed. What he didn’t anticipate, however, was Connor suddenly threw his arms around his neck to embrace him. Especially since his boner was now caught in the middle of it. He heard Connor make a sharp inhale, as the man slightly pressed his body even closer around Hank’s hips. 

 

“Uhhhh…” Hank’s brain flatlined. Was this really happening? Was he still out in the snow having some kind of hallucination while he was the one freezing to death?

 

He really, really hoped not.

 

“Hank… take me to bed?” Connor mumbled sweetly into his shoulder.

 

He was shaking in anxiousness now, “Like, take you to  _ bed _ , or-”

 

On his cheek, just above his beard, he felt a sudden warmth. A soft pair of lips pressed warmly on his face, and with each small kiss they grew closer to his own. He felt them tickle the bristles of his mustache before finally colliding with his mouth, which was agape in surprise. Connor took the opportunity to nibble on his lower lips before planting his mouth over Hank’s, both of them making a soft sound in their throats at the feeling.

 

Hank wrapped one hand around Connor’s waist, and brought the other up to his cleanly-shaven jaw, pressing himself closely against Connor. Their lips broke apart as Connor gasped; they panted heavily and breathed in combined hot air between them. 

 

Something about the suddenness of the kiss resonated in some suppressed, long-forgotten part of Hank’s brain, and he pushed Connor up against the bed with a new sense of urgency. Losing his balance, the injured man flopped down backwards into the quilt, but still looking down at Hank so wantonly. Hank climbed up onto the bed, as Connor scooted himself backwards up against the pillows. 

 

They came face to face once more, pale blue meeting deep brown, until Connor lost all patience and pushed himself up to lock their lips together. As their tongues danced, Connor desperately began to remove Hank’s flannel, going button by button down the shirt and tugging it out of where it was tucked into the belted pants. Smiling through the kiss, Hank helped out by unbuckling his belt and tossing it over the side of the bed. Before shrugging the thick shirt off, however, he grabbed the bottom hem of Connor’s shirt and removed it in one fell swoop.

 

Hank looked down in awe at the younger man’s revealed body; little freckles and beauty marks were speckled across the smooth skin to match the ones on his adorable face. Speaking of which, that face was looking at him in a delightful mix of awe and arousal, and he finally removed the rest of his shirt.

 

Despite the sodium-heavy diet of frozen foods, Hank was the first to admit he was a big, buff dude. He had thick arms and abs, but also sported a bit of a beer belly. Connor didn’t look like he minded too much, and caught Hank off-guard when reached up to tug on the belt loops of his pants to drag him back down into a kiss. 

 

Hank moved in closer, pressing himself against Connor again and unashamedly pressed his pelvis right up against the meat of Connor’s thigh. Laying prone and eager, the younger man dragged an open palm down across Hank’s hairy chest, while flicking his tongue along the rough lips. He sneakily undid the button and fly in his way before diving a few teasing fingers between Hank’s tummy and the offending denim jeans.

 

“Sh-sh-shit…” Hank whispered as he broke their locked lips to breath. 

 

“I really do want to thank you properly, Hank…” Connor spoke sweetly, watching Hank’s face twist in pleasure as his fingers reached deeper. “As long as you don't mind?”

 

The gruff ranger softened like putty in the care of this sweet stranger, letting his face fall into Connor’s shoulder and brushing his beard against the slender neck. “It’s just… been a while…” 

 

Connor nodded, nuzzling his head to the side against his lover’s. “Let me… please,” guiding Hank’s hands to pull away the pants and boxers, he sat up against the headboard until he was level with Hank’s crotch. As the clothing was removed, a throbbing cock bounced slightly as it was finally freed. Connor pulled Hank forward until his hands were resting on the headboard. His nails gently scratched at the wood, his body flooding with need. 

 

“Fuck… oh fuck…” he growled as he felt Connor’s hands start to feel him up. Nimble hands caressed every inch of him; starting at the front of his standing erection, trailing behind to fondle his balls. Using his thumb, Connor massaged the flesh right in in between them. Hank exhaled a heavy sigh, grunting at the unfamiliar touch. He could feel Connor’s hot breath as he drew closer to the erect member, feeling the wet warmth of a flat tongue leave a trail of saliva all the way up to the tip. Hank shivered, taking a peak with his own eyes at what was being lovingly done to him.

 

Connor met his gaze, tongue still out as he panted, and kept the eye contact as he pressed the tip of his tongue just under the head of the penis. He curled it around, following the crease to the other side before closing his eyes and bringing the rest of his mouth around the head. Hank’s breaths became louder with moans interwoven as his body became overwhelmed. 

 

Hank was so unused to being touched by someone else, it only took a few dips into Connor’s mouth for him to reach climax. His hands turned to fists at the pleasure ripping through him, a gasping moan falling out of his mouth. 

 

Speaking of which… when he looked down again, Connor still had his open. He slowly looked up at Hank with those big, sparkling eyes. But after another moment of recognition, Hank saw the gleam of his own cum streaking across the rose features of Connor’s face.

 

Hank tried to focus on the eyes, the pink lips, anything but what just shit out of him. His breath hitched as Connor lapped at the slit of his spent penis for the last dribbles of his orgasm. He swallowed, mouth dry, feeling ready to collapse.

 

Looking for side to side, Hank looked for which had more space, which happened to be the side with Connor’s bad leg. Holding a breath, he slumped to the side as carefully as humanly possible to lay down as a wave of exhaustion hit him.

 

“Woah…” he groaned.

 

Connor hummed beside him, leaning his head to the side so his hair brushed Hank’s shoulder. 

 

“I look forward to being stuck here with you, Ranger Anderson.”

  
This is definitely, assuredly,  _ not _ how Hank pictured this day to end. 


	2. Thaw

The warm and fuzzy afterglow was so distracting, that it took Hank a little while to realize that he should probably, actually help Connor prop up his foot before they fell asleep. Also… he needed a shower.

 

He groaned from the back of his throat as he hoisted himself up, mumbling something to Connor in his post-orgasm stupor about going to wash up. He made a pit stop at his closet to grab some sleeping pants to change into. No point in grabbing a shirt if Connor didn’t mind his bare chest, right? He had enough water to take a pretty nice, hot shower, but his body still felt like it was on fire. As he stepped into the bathroom, he looked at his own confused expression in the mirror. How did that guy in his reflection get a blowjob from… he thought about Connor’s lean and toned body. The curly brown mop of hair that matched his eyes…

 

Hank felt like he was overheating; maybe he should go out into the snow and snap himself back into reality.

 

Deciding against this, he turned the shower handle to get the water going until it was just lukewarm enough for his taste. Every few minutes as he was scrubbing his body, his mind began over-thinking what was happening. While it was a remarkably  _ wonderful  _ gesture on Connor’s part to thank him with a blowjob… it was his job to save people. He thankfully didn’t need to do it often, but he also didn’t want Connor to feel obligated since they were stuck there. He felt guilty enough already.

 

But, he had to admit, something about the warmth in Connor’s smile and his little giggles made Hank’s heart ache. It was the best pain in the world; it scared him. It had been a long time since that feeling crawled it's way out of the depths of his chest. 

 

He flicked the handle to turn the water off, staring at the dripping spout for a few moments before collecting himself to step out. He towel-dried as much of his body as he could before pulling the elastic-waisted sweatpants from his police academy days. Using a dry washcloth, he erratically rubbed his hair to try and dry it, too. The one upside to living such a simple life was not caring enough to buy hair products, although, he did need a haircut pretty badly. 

 

Hank stepped back out into the living room, to see that Connor had somehow managed to get the pillows to the other side of the bed, where he was now laying. He was courteous enough to want Hank to have his spot back? 

 

“You’ll be further away from the fireplace on that side,” Hank observed outloud, catching Connor’s attention. 

 

The man shrugged from where he was sitting up on the bed, “You’ll keep me warm, won’t you?” 

 

Hank snorted, his eyes rolling up for a moment, “Yeah, you bet I will.” 

 

He climbed onto the bed, the quilt had been crumpled and pushed to the end of the bed. Hank began to fix it up, “So… that was  _ amazing _ and you are very sweet, but… don’t feel like you owe me anything, all right? You aren't like indebted to me or whatever,” he spoke with rushing words, unsure if he was explaining well enough to get his point across.

 

“I…” Connor started, and then reached for Hank’s face and pressed his hand gently into his beard. “I did it because I wanted to. I promise.” He said simply, catching Hank’s gaze.

 

“But… but you sa-"

 

Connor’s face dipped a little in slight embarrassment, “in the moment, it just sounded… I wanted to see if it would turn you on,” He bit his lip a little, looking back up at Hank, “but...maybe a bit of both, really.”

 

Hank hummed, bringing his hand up to the one on his face, and pulled it toward his mouth to kiss. His whiskers brushed the palm, and then he gingerly folded the hand in his to press his lips to the knuckles of Connor’s hand. “I just… wanted to hear you say it to be sure.” 

 

Connor tried to roll to his side to get a better angle to kiss Hank on the lips, his ankle disagreed with the idea and he whimpered slightly as he leaned in. 

 

Hearing the pained sound, Hank pushed him off so he was lying flat again. “Let me…” Despite their size difference, he leaned his weight on Connor to delve into those soft lips again. He steadied himself with an arm resting just above the smaller man’s head. “God… I could kiss you all night if you would let me.”

 

Connor hummed, the smiling curve in his lips only sweetened the exchange further. “I would love that.”

 

Breaking the kiss apart, Hank huffed, “Yeah, but we should both get some sleep. At this rate you’ll be lucky if you can get me up by ten.” He kissed Connor again, trying to wipe the pout from his face. “Feel free to shove me if I get too close. ‘M not used to sharing a bed with someone.”

 

Connor squinted, rubbing his nose against Hank’s playfully before he got to far away. Hank flicked off the table lamp on his nightstand, the only light remaining was the crackling fire.

  
  


It took Connor much longer to fall asleep than he would've liked to admit. Even in the rental cabin’s squishy, hotel beds he had a hard time falling asleep on this trip. It was painfully quiet; he could hear his ears ringing at the relative silence compared to his city apartment back in Detroit. He was used to the sounds of sirens and footsteps in the unit above to lull him to sleep. Trying to relax his spinning thoughts, he hyper focused on the sounds he  _ could _ hear: the fire, the soft snores of the dog beside it, the wind rustling the trees outside. All the noises were quiet enough for a baby to sleep uninterrupted, but for him it was like torture.

 

After almost an hour, he found himself staring at the ceiling, looking at the intricately carved arches of the low rafters. Small details like that made him feel cozy; knowing that somebody took the time to plan and design the swirls and patterns. They used their own two hands to create something new. It was inspiring, but only made his thoughts race faster. 

 

Connor brought a hand to his head, sighing in anguish. He was tired,  _ exhausted _ even. The threat of death was not unknown to him, having worked some pretty intense cases where he certainly got his hands dirty. But facing down his demise up on the mountain; alone, injured, frozen… it wouldn’t have been an easy way to go. His body worked hard to preserve itself when he was sitting in the snow and-

 

A snore distracted him from his thoughts. Looking to his side, he could make out Hank’s face in the warm fire light, mouth hanging open. It wasn’t a loud snore, but it was startling in stark contrast to the previous lack of any sound at all. 

 

Another snore, not any louder than the last. Connor smiled at the sound; snoring meant that Hank was definitely asleep, but hadn't yet reached REM. It was almost comforting; he found himself looking at Hank for a good amount of time before realizing it was probably a little creepy. 

 

The memory of Hank saving him was a blur, he had been sure that he was hallucinating. A tall, burly man and his dog finding him up on the mountain? He was so sure that he wouldn't make it out, and at first had thought Hank was an angel. 

 

Even if he wasn’t really an angel in the spiritual sense, he sure seemed like one to Connor. He was handsome and kind; soft and warm. He found his mind drifting into darkness listening to the resonating snoring that filled the cabin with life.

 

\---

 

Even though he fell asleep long after Hank did, Connor still woke up first. He was used to long nights studying case files, which was an unfortunate complication when his body’s natural “alarm clock” roused him right around 7am each morning. He could always try to go back to sleep, but he knew himself well enough to know that he was awake for the day and that was that. 

 

The sunlight shone indirectly into one of the cabin windows; Connor and Sumo mutually recognizing that the other was awake. The big dog lazily got up from his spot by the now-dying fire, coming around the bed to greet his new friend. 

 

Painstakingly careful, both for his foot and to let Hank sleep, Connor got up out of bed. He assumed Sumo wanted to be let outside, and he could make himself useful despite limping. 

 

His ankle did feel considerably better overall, but he had to fight the desire to take the damned gauze and plastic casing off. He managed himself over to the heavy cabin door, letting Sumo take his time going outside to do his business. Connor noticed a small pipe of chopped wood, tossing a piece pieces into the fireplace. Not too far from it was a bookshelf and messy desk of equipment and paperwork. 

 

He peered at the titles along the shelves. Mostly old classics, copies that looked like they had been read dozens of times through the years. A few nature books, too, mostly about the wildlife and fauna of Colorado. Closest to the desk, there were some local tourist guides and ranger handbooks. While the cabin had mostly bare walls, pilled above the desk there was a detailed map of the mountain with small taped flags for certain areas. Fainty outlined circles in a kind if wavy bullseye to indicate the different elevations on the faded paper. The brightly colored flags were fairly straightforward, things like “HQ", “Collins", “Reed", “Home”. 

 

Home... So Hank truly did just live here year round? Connor had assumed that maybe the man had a proper home somewhere in the next town over, or maybe even in Denver where he said he was previously living. Turning his attention back to the bookshelf, he decided to pull a book out that looked a little less-loved, newer. It was a thick book of fairy-tales… kind of an odd choice for Hank, but entertaining nonetheless. 

 

He sat in the desk chair, opening the hard cover, he noticed there was a thick piece of shiny paper tucked into the front end page. He lifted it carefully, flipped the blank side over to reveal an image. He gasped, quickly covered his mouth.

 

It was the photo of a young boy, definitely no older than about 9 or 10. It looked too new to be a photo of Hank, but he could see there was some resemblance. Self-conscious that he was invading Hank’s privacy, he quickly replaced the photo where he found it and stuck the book back on the shelf, opting for a different selection. 

 

Without thinking too hard about it, the book he pulled from the shelf was Stephen King’s “The Shining". He had seen the film, and decided that something else... would definitely be better. As he slid it back in its spot, he wondered if Hank owned it ironically given that he lived in isolation in a mostly-snowy location. Shaking the thought away, he spent a few more minutes searching, but settled on an anthology of Shakespeare plays. 

 

There were a few sections with Post-It notes as makeshift bookmarks sticking out the top. Some were to mark where certain plays began, some denoted random pages… maybe favorite scenes? Or just placeholders?

 

He flipped to one of them at random, skimming the page. It was one of the famous  _ Hamlet _ soliloquies. He remembered this one; he took a theater class in college and they were asked to study it the play. Skipping to another saved place was a scene from Macbeth… Act 2 Scene 3?

 

He skimmed through a portion of the page:   
  


 

\--

 

**_MACDUFF_ **

_ Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, _

_ That you do lie so late? _

 

**_Porter_ **

_ 'Faith sir, we were carousing till the _

_ second cock: and drink, sir, is a great _

_ provoker of three things. _

 

**_MACDUFF_ **

_ What three things does drink especially provoke? _

**_Porter_ **

 

_ Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and _

_ urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; _

_ it provokes the desire, but it takes _

_ away the performance: therefore, much drink _

_ may be said to be an equivocator with lechery: _

_ it makes him, and it mars him; it sets _

_ him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, _

_ and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and _

_ not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him _

_ in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him. _

 

**_MACDUFF_ **

_ I believe drink gave thee the lie last night. _

\------

  
  


Connor chuckled at the dialogue, but it died as soon as it came. He noticed how many drinks Hank had the night before. That many shots did almost nothing to him, except to coat the hot air of his breath with the stinging scent of barley. Connor was an investigator for a reason; Hank had quite the tolerance, either due to his stature or consistent intake. 

 

It worried him, despite only knowing Hank for less than a whole day. He already deeply cared about him, which definitely was accompanied by his absolutely  _ thirst  _ for man. It seemed that the man was pretty enthralled in him too. But… asking Hank about the problem probably wouldn’t be the best idea until they got to know each other. It pained Connor a little to consider that this wonderful person who saved his life was endangering his own. 

 

Sumo’s claws scratched at the door, and he let the beast in before the door was knocked off its hinges. The dog returned to his spot on the floor where he had been sleeping, and the two enjoyed the silent company as they both waited for Hank to wake up.

 

He read through a large portion of  _ A Midsummer Night’s Dream _ before growing impatient waiting for Hank. He didn’t know when his friends would be coming up to drop off their supplies, and would be severely embarrassed if they walked in and saw Hank so comfortably half-naked. He wanted to run his fingers through Hank’s hairy, barrel chest; but his friends knew him well enough to tease him for it even with Hank being fully clothed.

 

The easiest answer to this problem, was to start by making Hank a cup of coffee.

 

He prepared a mug, making sure to look for any sweeteners (because Hank would likely only have them if he used them). The coffee was evenly sweet and bitter, and he was thankful that the coffee maker had a hot plate that got the liquid nice and hot. With the mug placed carefully at the table, he stood next to the bed where Hank was laying. The gentle snore had returned a little while ago, and his head was tilted to let a small dribble of drool wet the corner of his lips. Connor leaned down, his lips kissed one of the cheeks and he gave something of a nibble on the meatiest part of it. He dragged his lips further down to whisper into the ear softly.

 

“Good morning, Hank,” he said sweetly, and pulled away to look for a reaction. The sleepy face barely even twitched, so he pressed another kiss upon his forehead. “There’s coffee on the table for you.”

 

A hand suddenly touched his cheek, goading him in close again. He squeaked in surprise, but smiled into the smooch and returned it happily. “You’re insatiably cute, you know that?”

 

His heart thudded with excitement; Hank had one of those  _ voices _ when he woke up. It was half and octave lower than usual, and the scratchy hoarseness was nothing if not sexy. Instead of replying, hey just continued to lean over Hank, despite how uncomfortable it was. They were only interrupted when Sumo came up next to him and places his front paws on the edge, threatening to jump on top of Hank. 

 

Connor stepped away so Hank could sit up, who looked at him from the bed with a fond, gentle smile, “want some oatmeal?”

 

For how unhealthy Hank’s other meals tended to be, breakfast was not one of them. He usually kept around a box or two of cereal, but in the colder months he would stock up on as many different varieties of oatmeal packets as he could. Something about it was very endearing to Connor, and he chuckled when Hank offered him the kind for kids with little dinosaur candies in them. 

 

Connor kept watch on the microwave while Hank took care of business at his desk. The dispatch radio’s buzz returned, and the light of the computer monitor lit up that corner of the cabin. There were no new emails, so he shrugged and returned to his coffee at the table. Sumo had jumped up onto the unoccupied bed, going back into a nap.

 

“So, how many friends are on this trip? I'm not really prepared to host more than a few at a time…” It was true; the cabin was like a glorified studio apartment. 

 

“It’ll be about 5,” Connor replied, taking a cautious bite of the hot oatmeal from an oversized mug.

 

Hank raised his eyebrows, “yeesh… well, they will have to take turns visiting you.”

 

“I can also step outside for a little while, I really don’t mine,” he offered.

 

“You,” Hank pointed a finger toward his guest, “should still technically be on bedrest.” He stuck a spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth, “So… what are you friends like? Cops like you?”

 

Connor smiled, “No, they are… well, four of then are friends from college. The other is my brother, but they all get along pretty well.”

 

Hank nodded, “younger or older? Your brother?”

 

Connor smiled, “Younger; he’s a good kid. Still in college himself.” His expression faltered, “I feel bad for making him worry.” He set his spoon into his breakfast, staring down as it sunk to the bottom.

 

Hank offered his hand across the table, palm facing up. Connor places his own on top of it gently, feeling the calluses of the man’s fingers. “You are alive and safe; they did the smart thing by telling the staff at the visitor center that you were missing. And they were  _ idiots _ to let you go alone.” At the stressed word, he gave Connor’s hand a small squeeze. 

 

Shyly, Connor looked back up. Hank’s icy eyes somehow had the reverse effect of their color and melted away at Connor’s anxiousness and guilt. “I wouldn't have met you if they didn’t.”

 

Hank exhaled a slight chuckle. “Yeah… yeah, but don’t make a habit of putting yourself in danger, okay? Well, at least when you’re off the clock.”

 

They continued to talk softly through breakfast, and Hank started to get dressed when they finished.

 

Connor picked up the book of Shakespeare again, peaking up ever once in a while to watch Hank get dressed with an eager smirk. Hank caught him looking, sticking out his tongue in retaliation.

 

“Hey…” Hank looked through his clothes, “So I know I'm a few sizes bigger than you, but do you want a change of clothes? Even just a fresh shirt?” Hank was, of course, offering because he was a gentleman, and definitely  _ not _ so he could see Connor topless again. Even just for a moment. 

 

From the office chair, Connor nodded warmly, waiting to see what Hank had in mind.

 

After careful consideration, Hank pulled out a soft, grey hooded sweatshirt, and tosses it so it landed over Connor’s entire head. From under the fabric, he heard a giggle as the sweatshirt was removed to reveal blushing cheeks and twinkling eyes. After setting down the book, he stood up and walked over to Hank. “Could you help me put it on?”

 

With half-lidded eyes, Hank looked down at Connor’s shirt. It was rather thin; since it was just meant to be flexible layer under a fleece sweater and downy coat. He ran his fingers down along the thin fabric until the shirt stopped, just barely brushing Connor’s slightly exposed stomach. The slight touch was enough to elicit as stuttered breath. He began to pull the shirt up, turning it inside out as it was removed. Connor shook his head a little as it passed over his shoulders, and a few locks of stray hair fell into his face.

 

After freeing his arms, the two men locked eyes on one another, leaning in closely. Hank’s hands wandered the soft, slight curve of Connor’s waist to his hips. He was rewarded with another sweet gasp, and leaned his lips into Connor’s temple. 

 

“ _ This is Kamski to Anderson on the north side, do you copy?” _ The crackling voice from the radio startled them both out of the tender moment. Sumo head perked up, barking from the bed. Hank frowned, but rested the warm palm of his hand on Connor’s cheek for a moment before stepping over to the desk.

 

“This is Anderson. You got an ETA, Eli?” He replied through the small microphone attached by a coiling wire.

 

_ “Myself and that group of guests are part way up, should be there in about twenty minutes.” _

 

“Copy, over and out,” he turned the volume down on the system, and turned his attention back to Connor. The sweatshirt was indeed massive on him, reaching past his hips. “Warm enough?” 

 

Connor tucked his hands into the large pocket in the middle, nodding. “Very, thank you, Hank.”

 

They silently sipped their coffee while they waited for the group to come knocking, which ended up being a little longer than twenty minutes. The approaching sound of loud talking and laughing announced their approach, that Hank had time to put on all of his winter gear and wait for them outside. As he stepped over the threshold of the cabin’s door, he glanced over at Connor sitting in the desk chair not too far. The brunette blew him a kiss, and Hank felt uncomfortably warm in the thickly layered snowsuit. “C’mon Sumo, let’s go.” The big dog lumbered off the bed and followed him outside to run around.

 

The group of 20-somethings were lead by a barely-older 20-something, the cadence of their conversation making it clear that they had all been getting along wonderfully.  _ Damn Kamski and his charisma, _ Hank thought. 

 

His assumptions had been correct, and he could hear the man talking deliberately loud about Hank’s reclusiveness and tendency to get wasted at the bar in town. He was laughing, and greeted the ranger with a fake smile.

 

“Ranger Anderson, hero of the hour! You have some eager fans who have heard  _ all _ about you!” The unreasonably skinny and pale man had to push himself on his toes to wrap an arm around Hank’s shoulder, introducing him to the group.

 

“Yeah, no thanks to you I’m sure,” he muttered, and then waved to the group of Connor’s friends and his brother. 

 

The one at the front of the group, whom Hank instantly noticed had a striking case of heterochromia, held a hand out. “Thank you so much for finding Connor last night, sir. My name is Markus,” Hank shook his hand, left eyebrow cocked in surprise. 

 

“Just Hank is fine, nice to meet you,” he replied, scanning the various faces.

 

There was a very nervous looking blonde, a young woman with a face that was made to constantly express “bitch-face”, a thoughtful-looking African-American, and… woah. 

 

The one who was clearly Connor’s brother bore an uncanny resemblance that it knocked the wind out of Hank for a moment. His cold eyes looked concerned, but the rest of his posture just screamed  _ confidence _ . A little taller and thicker muscles head-to-toe; his hair was still fluffy but pin-straight. 

 

They each introduced themselves: Simon, North, Josh, and Niles. Hank pointed his thumb behind him, “Connor’s just inside if you want to check on him. I have some paperwork to go through with Elijah.” He gave Kamski a smirk and the side-eye, ready to interrogate him about what he told them. The all nodded and agreed, heading inside eagerly.

 

Markus, ever the polite one, gave a quick knock before opening the heavy door and entering along with the other companions. They each removed their packs, starting to unload the supplies they brought. Grocery bags, a bag with some of Connor’s stuff. 

 

“We’re really glad you’re alright, Connor,” Josh said, handing him the cloth bag of clothes and toiletries.

 

“Yeah, thanks for scaring the shit out of us!” North interjected.

 

Niles walked over to Connor, leaning down to check his ankle. “It was your bad ankle too, wasn’t it?” He asked, carefully unwrapping the gauze to check it. There were some perks to having a brother in med school.

 

“Yeah… I haven’t had any problems with it in years, it should be fine in a day or two though…” 

 

Niles looked at his brother in disbelief, “I’d give it three or four days  _ at least _ before trying to climb down the mountain.”

 

Taking a glance out the window, Connor smiled, “I think I can manage that.”

 

Simon tried to cover a gasp with his hand, and then bit one of his fingers. He turned to Connor, “Oh…. did you…?” 

 

Everyone froze, and then glanced up at Connor’s face, red with guilt.

 

“Are you serious Connor?!” North nearly shouted, hands going straight to her hips.

 

Niles slapped his face with his palm, “Please tell me you didn’t….” 

 

Connor stuttered, “Well, uhh… we haven’t really.. But I…” 

 

Josh crossed his arms, looking amongst the others. “Seriously? Can we just be happy for him?” He looked at Connor, “seriously man, ignore these jerks. I, for one, am happy for you.” 

 

Going through her bag, North was huffing and pulled her old makeup bag from her pack. Inside was a large pack of condoms, a bottle of lube, and a $50 bill. She threw the box and bottle at Connor, but intercepted by Niles. The cash was handed over to Markus.

 

“You guys took a BET?!” The shriek from Connor broke in the middle as his tone pitched up in accusation.

 

“Well, drinks are on Markus when we get back,” Simon chuckled.

 

There was a collective murmur of laughs, even from Connor. They heard Kamski call them from outside, and one-by-one said goodbye to Connor. His brother lingered behind an extra minute, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Be careful, okay?”

 

“We’ll use safe words, I promise…” Connor joked, but didn’t receive even a smile in return; his faded.

 

“You know what I mean. We’re getting on a plane on Friday, don’t forget that.” 

 

Connor glared at him, “Really? You had to say it?”

 

Niles exhaled, a little defeated. “I’m your brother, my job is to tell you the truth even if it’s hard.”

 

Connor leaned on the desk to stand up, approaching his brother. “No, that’s what friends are for. You’re supposed to encourage me to be happy!”

 

The blue-eyed brother stared down at the other, zipping up his jacket. “You haven’t had a relationship since high school, if you start one here, you’ll-”

 

The door opened suddenly, “Ready to go, Niles?” The visitor center employee said, allowing Sumo to run inside, and then suddenly realized he was interrupting something. “We’re, umm, ready when you are.” He slowly retreated away and beckoned Sumo back out with him, but the awkwardness hung in the air.

 

“I’m sorry, Connor, but-”

 

“Don’t.” Niles was swiftly interrupted by a broken voice. “You’re the one always telling me to live in the moment for a change. Not thinking too far ahead.” He took in a shaking breath, looking away, “But I’ll be careful.”

 

He didn’t turn to watch his brother leave with a regretful expression, sitting back down as he heard them all say goodbye to Hank so they could continue their hike up to the peak. 

 

 

“We’re going to drop by Ranger Reed’s cabin to drop off another load, and then heading back.” Kamski announced, “I’m sure I’ll see you in a few weeks when that bottle runs out.”

 

Hank clutches bitterly at the double-bagged purchase from the liquor store. It was heavier than usual since Fowler had sent along a bottle of wine in addition to his usual order of hard whiskey. The group of tourists were all huddled around Sumo, and one of them looked up as they said goodbye to the pooch.

 

“It was nice to meet you, Anderson,” Niles said, a little solemnly. Hank noticed he wasn’t like that when they got there, and had heard Connor say something through the cabin walls; he was a little more than concerned.

 

“Likewise. I’ll keep good care of your brother,” he offered.

 

Simon and North exchanged whispers, and then giggles when they thought Hank wasn’t looking. He sighed; that couldn’t be a good sign.

 

They all started off down the hill, and Hank shuffled his way back into the cabin with the heavy bag in tow. Sumo was at his heels, but immediately sat by the fire to warm up. “Well, they seem pretty nice,” he started, and then turned to see Connor huddled up in the desk’s corner. “Hey… you okay?” Hank began to remove his boots and suit, looking up every few moments.

 

Connor took a deep breath, in and out, before replying. He lifted his face away from his hands, eyes a little red and shiny from stilled tears. “Fine. I’m fine….” He looked down at the mess of bags on the floor. “They brought quite a lot up, that was nice of them.” He glanced at the bag in Hank’s hand, before flicking them up to meet his eyes. 

 

“Yeah, more than enough until I bring you back down the cabins,” Hank looked on, but still unconvinced by the look on Connor’s face. He approached the chair, Connor slowly sat up straighter as he did. He squatted beside the chair so he could be at eye-level with its occupant, “something happened while I was outside. What did you guys talk about?” 

 

Hank helped Connor stand up when he noticed him trying, and then found himself with an armful of weight as the man nearly collapsed into him. There was a small sniffle, and he reached a hand down to gently raise Connor’s chin. Brown eyes avoided him, stubbornly downcast. “They are worried about me getting… attached. To you.” 

 

Large arms wrapped around the oversized sweatshirt, “Why?” Hank murmured.

 

Connor cringed, his shoulder shaking as he took unsteady breaths. “I… I think I already am.”

 

Hank swayed them softly, trying to soothe him. A thousand thoughts were running through his mind; he wasn’t sure what to say to that. At least not immediately…

 

The soft confession was so sweetly innocent in its own right. Hank’s heart had swelled, but his head swam a little at the realization. It was something he wasn’t ready to admit to himself, either. Getting attached. It had been a long, long time since he had felt that kind of connection with someone and have it returned. And that resulted in his failed marriage.

 

And Connor was different,  _ much _ different; not just because he was a cute, young guy and not a fellow forty-something who also had a steady job and interested in the married-with-kids idea. But Connor also had a whole life to go back to in Detroit… a good job, friends and family. Hank wasn’t about to leave his comfortable life that he’d built after years of torturing himself. He could get fresh air, Sumo was happy and healthy, and there was a hard limit to his alcohol intake. But was that what he still needed? At this point in his life?

 

“I think I… know the feeling,” he said into Connor’s ear, putting one hand behind the man’s head to keep him pressed against his chest. “I haven’t really… thought too hard about it, but I know that I like it.”

 

Connor’s breathing had calmed, a residual hiccup here and there. Hank didn’t care, he needed a minute to collect himself too. He felt Connor’s head turn a little, and relaxed his hand to allow them to look at one another.

 

“Can we… try this? Can we see where it goes?” Connor asked, voice a little lighter and full of hope.

 

Dropping the hood of the sweatshirt away, Hank leaned down to kiss Connor’s properly. The rest of the world melted away in the warmth between them; heavy breaths and burning cheeks. Hank scooped Connor up and nearly tossed him onto the bed, their lips barely breaking apart. Hank was on him in an instant, pushing his tongue into Connor’s mouth and was met with a needy groan. As he inched closer and kissed him deeper, he could feel the blood rushing to his hips, and noticed a similar reaction from the writing body beneath him. He leaned his head gradually, his lips travelling across soft cheeks, nibbling at a jaw bone, until his reached Conor’s neck. 

 

“Ohhh… ohhhhh…” Connor was nearly vibrating from the sensation, sparking through him like a completed circuit. Hank’s facial hair tickled the sensitive skin, only making him squirm further. He allowed himself to get lost in the sensation, feeling every tingle down his spine and the growing heat rushing through his veins.

 

Gently, Connor lifted a knee to rub his leg against Hank’s tenting bulge. The man growled, his chest quaking with excitement. In teasing revenge, he pressed his own leg into the mattress and against Connor’s crotch. A startled moan escaped chapped lips, following by a noise of uncertainty. “Ummm, hey Hank?”

 

“Yeah?” Delirious in the feeling, the man on top continued his business of teasing the other.

 

“Maybe we should let Sumo out… or… hnnnng…” Connor wasn’t allowed to finish his sentence, but it did prompt Hank to climb off. 

 

Still breathing a little heavily, Hank tried to weigh his options. Should he let Sumo outside? He’d be warm enough for a while, but Hank didn’t trust the dog being outside on his own to wander. Ruling out the bathroom for its size, he settled on pulling the lumpy dog bed into large, walk-in storage closet. It had a light, and was near enough to the chimney that it stayed fairly warm. Sumo was just gonna sleep anyway, so he brought in the handheld radio as well to provide a level of white noise to placate the dog for a little while. Sumo entered with no objection, and fell asleep almost immediately after Hank closed the door.

 

Turning his attention back toward the bed, he saw Connor trying desperately to remove his own clothes. Hank nearly tore his shirt taking it off, “Hang on a minute, I’ll help you out.” He said, fumbling with his belt and pants.

 

Once he was down to his boxers (thankful, also, that he changed them that morning), he kneeled on the edge of the bed to work off Connor’s pants. The sweatshirt had already been tossed to the floor, and Hank admired the view as he got to work. First, however, he had to figure out what to do about the injured ankle. 

 

“I think I have one of those compression thingies for you ankle… take some of this bulky stuff off.” He started to unwrap the bandage, trying not to rush despite himself. Connor nodded, looking on a little nervously. After the gauze was off, he removed the plastic pieces and tube of fabric that cushioned it against the joint. Hank heard Connor gasp a little as he freed the wrapping, and slowly pulled the pants down to his knees to start. Connor was wearing subtle grey-blue boxer briefs, his crotch bulging through them. Hank couldn’t help but smile in awe of the beautiful work of art laying before him, trying hard to focus on the tricky task ahead of him. 

 

“Gonna take this nice and slow, okay? It looks like it’s probably still sore,” he careful threaded the jeans off of the good leg, getting that out of the way. Moving to the other leg, he held the leg up from under the knee, slowly tugging them off around the swollen injury. Connor had his eyes squeezed shut in anticipation, only peeking them open when it was over. 

 

Hank dug awkwardly through one of the bags of supplies, finding the package that contained the elastic ankle brace. He returned to Connor’s side, seeing him recoil a little at the sight. “I know… might not be a bad idea to grab a pillow right about now.” Nodding, Connor took Hank’s pillow in both hands on his chest, blocking some of Hank’s view of his face. “Ready?” Hank saw the pillow shake, steeling himself to put on the brace.

 

It was just like a sock, but thicker, less comfortable fabric and cut off before the toes. He put it around Connor’s foot, bunched up in wrinkles of grey with a stripe of red for the heel. A deep breath, “when I pull it up, push your leg toward me gently,” he instructed. He saw the leg tighten a little, and pulled the bandage up with a hand on either side of it. Instantly, the weird sock was on in its proper place, but Hank heard a muffled sound from the pillow that now covered Connor’s face.

 

He kissed the leg above the brace, letting it lay gently on the mattress. He climbed up, reaching for the pillow to reward his patient. Connor was huffing, somewhere between stress and arousal. He reached up for Hank’s cheek, desperate for a kiss to make the pain disappear. 

 

Hank crashed into him, plunging back into the passionate energy before he suggested they continue without an audience. Their lips rubbing together messily, saliva creeping outwards around their mouths. Feeling bolder, Hank cupped a hand downwards to find the begging need between his legs. 

 

“Ha-ank!” Connor threw his head back, his hips bucking beyond his control. The large hand continued to press and wander, finding the outlines of the different organs and stroking at some common sweeter spots. “Please… God…” his voice smooth and low.

 

Hank didn’t even have to ask when Connor started to push his under underwear down, the erection bouncing proudly after being released.

 

It was at that moment that Connor discovered how much different Hank’s hand felt bare against his cock without fabric in the way. He whined, keening further down in the pillow and then mouth falling open. It was rough and warm… and perfect.

 

Hank gave a few strokes, noticing the small bead of liquid leaking from the tip. He swiped his thumb across the slit, and look straight into Connor’s fluttering eyes as he licked it. 

 

Connor began to reach for Hank’s erection, whispering incoherent pleas for Hank to fuck him senseless. He could hear a thundering chuckle above him, keeping his eyes closed to focus on the physical touch only. 

 

A new feeling ripped through him; Hank’s considerably larger dock lined up next to his with just a teasing bit of friction. There was a shared moan, and Hank gently rolled his hips in animalistic desire. More sounds tumbled from them out of sync, but their bodies moving in rhythm. After about a minute of this, Connor felt his ankle roll in toward Hank’s legs and cried out from the pain. 

 

“Shit, sorry… you all right?” Hank broke the moment immediately in panic. Connor shook his head, trying to shake away the pain as well.

 

“I’ll be okay… mmm…” Hank watched his face, surprised when it suddenly shifted with a smile. Connor reached under his pillow to pull out the box of condoms and lube North had given him. He had kept it in the pocket of the hoodie, and hid it when Hank was dealing with Sumo.

 

Hank stared, dumbfounded at the box, and then at Connor. “You are fucking  _ magical _ baby, you know that?”

 

The shrink wrap was torn off quickly, Hank trying desperately to get one on as soon as he he possibly could. Unrolling the lubricated sleeve, he gave his disk a quick stroke to keep it awake until he finished preparing Connor properly. 

 

“I may have an idea if you need a better angle…” Connor said, deceptively innocent.

 

Hank leaned down to steal a kiss, “Is that so?”

 

“My foot should be fine with my legs in the air, correct?” He asked with a small wink.

 

Hank caught on, shifting backwards. “Lemme stretch you open first,” he uncapped the lubricant with a popping sound, squirting a fair amount on the tips of his fingers. Connor shifted slightly at the feeling of cold lube against his puckered hole. It wasn’t his first time, but… it was still fairly unknown territory for him. His eyes focused on a spot on the ceiling as he collected his thoughts, but all control was out the window the second the thick digit entered.

 

“Ahhhhh-” Connor exhaled loudly, Hank allowing him a moment before continuing in. The lube certainly help, but the man was incredibly tight. After reaching the second knuckle, he pulled the finger out to elicit another gasping breath. He worked his finger like a precise piston, waiting for Connor to signal him to go any further. 

 

Bucking his hips, Connor wanted to feel  _ more _ ; suddenly craving the uncomfortable bigness of the dick he had in his mouth the night before. “Put it in me… pleeeeeeease!” 

 

Hank offered another finger into the equation, seeing Connor’s skin get splotchy and red across his body. Working up to a third finger, he could hear the strain in Connor’s throat as his moans became horse. 

 

“Fuck… let me feel you… let me…. Ohhhhhh!” Connor was suddenly empty, glancing down to see Hank applying another helping of lubricant to his hand, but sliding it around the tightly-filled condom. Hank reached under the legs on either side of him, lifting them up against his shoulders and lining the head of his cock against Connor’s entrance. 

 

Connor swayed his hip slightly in want, his mind going blank as he was slowly filled beautifully. His foot was thankfully not in pain, but his eye twitched involuntarily at the slight pinching feeling. There was a wash of relief, like a cold chill during a fever to offer some relief, but was instantly pushed into deeper than before. 

 

“God damnit… Connor…” Hank breathlessly uttered in ecstasy. “You good?” He confirmed, receiving a nod before starting to set a pace. Hank had to push hard to fit into the tight entrance. Hitting a steady crescendo to the fastest he could plow his partner, the lewd sound of slapping skin filled their ears, and each of them found the urge to drown it out with their own voices. Growing louder, their panting alone would have easily been heard from just outside the wooden structure. 

 

Connor gripped the sheets tightly, feeling the high of the crescendo into orgasm and spoke eagerly. “Please, Hank… touch me… I’m almost…” 

 

Reaching around the strong thighs of Connor’s legs, Hank began to work his partner’s erection to cascade him over the edge. Bracing himself, the smaller man was nearly screaming Hank’s name as he came. It was an immense wave of pleasure, harder than he had definitely ever had felt before. Cum streaking across his torso, he pounded the bed with his fist as he rode it out, and then shivering at the further stimulation as Hank followed closely behind. The man sounded like a beast as he growled through the climax, the inside of the condom expanding just enough to collect his load.

 

Hank leaned forward as his head lightened, the movement resisted by the tired legs that were still pressed against him. He carefully lowered them, surprising even himself by how slowly he managed it, but rolled to the side to side up against the headboard on his side of the bed.

 

His mind cycled between a host of expletives, unable to turn them into words verbally. His body felt strangely relaxed; it almost made his skin crawl at the foreignness of it. It wasn’t the kind of relief from a sip of alcohol or even a good stretch first thing in the morning. It pounded through his heart, and he felt the lingering warmth in places deep within him that he didn’t think existed anymore. 

 

The body beside him shifted, and he watched wordlessly while Connor managed himself onto his side to lay his arm across Hank’s hairy tummy. Their panting was slowly soothed as their brains caught up to their bodies. The warm glow gave them a sleepy need to be close to the other. They couldn’t be touched by anything as cuddled closely; not worry or concern or the threat of the future. 

 

And, unknowingly, thinking the same three words that could not yet be spoken. 

  
  


\-------

 

Connor’s friends seemed to know him well enough to include several bags of frozen fruits and vegetables. Hank seemed a little put off, but was willing enough to give it a try. To start him off easy, they shared a bowl of just barely-thawed blueberries and raspberries as they sat at the table for some post-sex coffee. Sumo had been allowed back in, seemingly unfazed by whatever made them so sweaty 

 

After dinner later that night, Hank still insisted on having a drink. But much to Connor’s joy, he offered they share the bottle of dry, red wine as they were snuggled up in bed. The computer by the desk had music softly playing from the shitty speakers, but they hardly cared. 

 

The interwoven spurts of making out made a few songs feel especially charged with emotion. Like a properly cheesy movie, the shuffled collection of music became the soundtrack of the memorable evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Twitter

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Twitter: @canticumexvacui
> 
> Special thanks to @gaydeviants and @havenwolds for being my test readers and amazing fandom friends <3


End file.
